


Exquisite Ecstasy

by SapphicScholar



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: 1x06 rewrite, F/F, Fix-it fic, Porn With Plot, Smut, Zelda's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 14:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17225660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicScholar/pseuds/SapphicScholar
Summary: A 1x06 rewrite featuring all those scenes between Zelda and Madam Satan we never got to see (plus several smutty additions that we’d all love to have seen)





	Exquisite Ecstasy

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I used the name Mary Wardwell instead of Lilith, since I’m writing from Zelda’s POV. Also, it’s my first foray into writing for this fandom because I couldn’t get these two out of my head (and those IG posts…feeding us well). I hope you enjoy and would love to know what you thought down in the comments!

“Answer the door, Hilda,” Zelda ordered from behind the newspaper at the sound of the bell to the front door of the Spellman Mortuary ringing.

A moment later, however, the doorbell rang again. “Hilda! The door.”

It wasn’t until Zelda looked up and found an empty room that she remembered Hilda no longer spent most of her waking hours at home, instead idling away her time at that insipid bookstore.

The third ring of the bell finally got Zelda out of her chair, muttering under her breath about mortals and their lack of basic manners. “Just because someone has died, they think they can make demands…”

When she pulled open the door, though, Zelda found she recognized the woman standing in front of her. “You…” She’d been here before, strutting through their home, hips swaying as she sauntered down their grand staircase, breathily announcing herself as Sabrina’s teacher there to plan a funeral. But Zelda knew she had seen her another time, and her inability to place the woman frustrated her almost as much as Sabrina’s newfound teenage attitude.

“Mary Wardwell.” The woman offered a perfectly manicured hand to Zelda, who, despite her reservations, took it.

“What can I do for you? Are you still here pretending you need to plan a funeral?”

“That sort of attitude can’t be good for business,” Mary drawled, stepping over the threshold. “Luckily for you, I’m not here as a customer.”

“So why _are_ you here?”

“I have something to discuss with you.” Zelda arched an eyebrow at the woman. “Privately.”

With a sigh, Zelda took a single step backwards, allowing Mary to enter before pushing the door shut behind her.

“I’m here to talk about Sabrina.”

Zelda couldn’t say she was surprised. Between the attitude and the recent rebellious streak that was threatening to age Zelda at a mortal pace, there was no doubt in her mind that Sabrina was causing just as much trouble for her teachers as she was at home. “Couldn’t this be handled at her school? My sister will happily drop by for whatever meeting needs to be held.”

“Mm, yet I find that hallways full of mortals are hardly the proper place to discuss things like demonic possession and young witches who want to perform exorcisms.”

“Of course,” Zelda exhaled, more to herself than to Mary.

“You’re unsurprised?”

Zelda simply waved off the question with a flick of her wrist. The other night she knew she felt something when Mary passed, some crackle in the air that felt like magic—and powerful magic at that. “So what is it that Sabrina is up to now?”

“She believes one of her mortal friends—the small one—that some uncle of hers is possessed by a demon—Apophis, based on what she found in the mines, which she went exploring with that mortal boyfriend of hers last night. And she has already put herself at risk by astral projecting into the man’s room to try to confront a demon older than any history she comprehends.”

Rubbing at her temples, Zelda tried not to let her annoyance show. “I am…aware of what Sabrina thinks must be done. What I don’t know”—Zelda fixed Mary with a stern glare—“is why you have felt it necessary to meddle in her affairs.”

“Can we sit?” Mary motioned to the living room around the corner, and there was that breathy voice again that seemed to get under Zelda’s skin, to itch and tug and pull at some distant memory in a way she couldn’t quite place.

Zelda didn’t deign to reply with words, simply leading the way and settling herself in a leather armchair.

It wasn’t until Mary passed in front of the fireplace, her silhouette illuminated by the flicker of flames and the low lights, that Zelda was hit with a flash of a memory, some shadowy flicker of a dream that had haunted her for more nights than she would care to admit. Standing in front of her was the same woman who had strolled through her nightmare, had found her curled up on the floor, half-mad with grief, and nearly shocked her out of it simply by her intrusion.

“Tell me who you are,” Zelda demanded.

“My name is Mary Wardwell, as I said. I teach at Sabrina’s mortal school, but not by choice. I’m there to watch over her.”

“And who would have asked you to do such a thing?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Mary looked up and held Zelda’s gaze. “Edward did.” When no interruption came, she continued. “I sought Edward out after I was ex-communicated from the Church of Shadows for falling in love with a mortal.”

“Another one,” Zelda grumbled under her breath.

“I had heard news of him, about the ways he hoped to reform the Church. For a period, I worked as his secretary. I…I grew close to him. I devoured every word he wrote, greedily took in every sentence he uttered. After a time, I may not be proud of it, but I found myself falling in love with him.” Mary grew silent for a minute before continuing. “I knew my feelings would never be reciprocated—he had grown fond of those mortal notions like monogamy—so I hid how I felt, stayed close to him for as long as I could manage.” Mary dabbed at dry eyes with the corner of a handkerchief. “Before the accident, he asked me to look after Sabrina in whatever way I could if anything were ever to happen to him. And now I find it necessary to intervene.”

True as parts of the story sounded, Zelda couldn’t stave off the creeping sense that she was being fed an elaborate, well-rehearsed lie. “And how exactly do you plan on intervening in family affairs that do not include you?”

“Sabrina must be confronted with reason. And who better than three witches many years her senior to show her that reason?”

“I believe one would have done just fine.”

“And yet it hasn’t.”

Zelda’s eyes flashed with anger at the underlying challenge in Mary’s words.

“Perhaps your attention has been elsewhere… Satan knows your family has been through so much these past few months.”

Zelda hated the knowing look in Mary’s eyes, the way she seemed to see right through her, perhaps straight through to the deepest fears she’d stalked her way through one night. But she wasn’t one to be intimidated, certainly wasn’t one to let anyone else suggest her parenting skills were less than stellar, so she raised herself out of the chair, standing in front of the still-seated Mary and arching an eyebrow at her. “Are you suggesting that your interference in my niece’s life has somehow guided her better? Because I, for one, would absolutely adore any proof of that.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve told you about her adventures in the mines and the astral plane?”

“So you know one or two small details that I hadn’t found out. _Yet_. Bravo, truly.”

“We want the same things, Zelda. We both want Sabrina on the path of night. We both want her to devote herself to her studies at the Academy and to leave behind her mortal friends. We both want her to sign her name in the Book of the Beast—not her name signed by her father with you as his witness, but her own name in her own hand, her own full commitment to our Dark Lord.” Mary gracefully pushed herself up off of the sofa in one fluid motion, reaching out a hand and trailing her fingers down the sleeve of Zelda’s dress. “If only you could see how much we might achieve together. I am not your enemy, Zelda. Far from it.”

“What is it you’re proposing?”

Mary’s mouth curled up into a smile at the same moment her fingers curled around Zelda’s wrist, tugging her in ever so slightly. “An alliance. We can call it temporary if that assuages your fears. But together we can guide Sabrina in the right direction. Together we can get her back to the Dark Lord, to the path that we want for her—that Edward wanted for her.”

After a moment, Zelda gave a subtle inclination of her head, her skin warming slightly at the nearly predatory smile she received in response. She forced herself to take a step back. “So what do you suggest as our first step?”

“An intervention. A proper one.”

“So what? You’re going to wait in my home until Sabrina arrives?”

Mary shrugged her shoulders. “That seems the best plan. We’ll inform your sister of it when she returns and present a united front to make the girl see reason.”

Zelda wanted to object, to demand that Mary leave her home and let her sit in peace once more, but something in the back of her mind kept her from saying it. There was something about the woman…something that demanded attention, that made Zelda want to lean in closer and delve deeper until she’d gotten to the very heart of the woman standing in front of her. “Fine,” she relented eventually.

For a long while, they sat in a somewhat uneasy silence. Zelda attempted to focus on copying out verses from the Dark Lord’s Bible but found her attention continually pulled away by Mary, who had made no attempt at hiding her own project of gazing upon Zelda, tracking her movements and observing the way she moved about her home.

“Do you need something to do?” Zelda huffed.

“No.”

“Surely you have better things to do than to stare at me.”

“On the contrary. I find this is precisely what I want most to be doing.”

Zelda felt a pull low in her abdomen that made her cheeks warm slightly. Instead of acknowledging it, she rolled her eyes. “I suppose that’s why you’re the ex-communicate here.”

“I think you’ll find there’s nothing lacking in my…personal relationship with the Dark Lord, though unlike you I haven’t relied on lesser men to confirm it for me.”

“You insult Father Blackwood without even knowing him?”

“Oh, I know him well enough. Well enough to know that he’s not the kind of man you should look to for approval.”

“And who says I’ve been looking for his approval?”

“Oh.” Mary tilted her head to the side slightly. “I see. Perhaps it’s something else you’re looking for from him…”

Pursing her lips, Zelda scowled at Mary. “I don’t need to deal with idle speculation from someone who knows nothing about me. Certainly not under my roof.” With a flick of her wrist, she gestured to the front door. “You can go.”

“Oh, Zelda. Everyone has needs.” Mary rose to her feet, stalking across the room to where Zelda sat with her books and leaning into her space.

With a sigh, Zelda held up her hand, ready to curse the woman—something mild, of course, no need to agitate Sabrina further, but enough to keep this dreadful woman out of her house. Only she found her wrist encircled by Mary’s warm hand before she could do anything, and there it was again. That crackle of magic—powerful, deep, so very deep, like she was drawing on reservoirs of power centuries, perhaps even millennia, old.

“There’s no need for that,” Mary purred, stepping ever closer. “I told you before that we should be working together.” A finger traced along Zelda’s wrist, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Your desires are my desires. What you want, I can satisfy.” And then she was leaning in and ghosting a kiss across Zelda’s lips that thrilled her to her very core.

“What is it you think you’re doing?” Zelda hated the way her voice had gotten throatier, her whole body humming with need despite her brain’s insistence against it.

“Is this not what you wanted?” Mary let out a little hum, never leaving Zelda’s space. “I was sure you were looking for someone powerful, someone who had devoted their whole life to the Dark Lord, to let you share in that.”

“Share?” Zelda scoffed, glaring at Mary.

“Don’t you need someone to tell you that you’ve done well? Doesn’t the idea that you might be failing the Dark Lord without even knowing it scare you, shake you to your very core?”

A surge of anger threatened to overwhelm Zelda, and she stood, her chair screeching back across the hardwood. “Don’t you ever”—she put a finger against Mary’s chest—“speak”—a little push—“about things”—a step forward—“you could never”—another step—“hope”—she shoved Mary back down to the couch—“to understand.”

And Zelda wanted to hex the woman, to keep her from ever speaking again, but then those fingers were wrapping around her waist and dragging her down, and she felt her resolve crumble at the sight of slightly parted lips, painted a deep shade of red.

The second kiss was nothing like the first. The gentle, ghosting, barely there touch was replaced with a surge of motion and a crash of lips, the none-too-gentle pull of teeth along lower lips and the drag of nails across skin still maddeningly covered in layers of fabric. The air around them seemed to hum with the force of their combined emotions and power. As Mary’s lips descended, trailing across Zelda’s jawline, then moving down to bite at her neck, Zelda heard a low, keening whimper that she refused to admit came from her, even as her hips bucked forward into Mary’s.

“Let yourself go,” Mary whispered, her voice deep and throaty and doing things to Zelda.

When she pulled back panting, though, she found Mary looking almost unbothered by it all, her gaze focused on every slight movement Zelda made and her breathing even. The only signs of her involvement were a slightly faster rise and fall of her chest and the smear of lipstick at the corner of her mouth. And that was wholly unacceptable. Zelda would not let herself go, let herself fall apart, without dragging Mary right down with her.

Surging forward once more, Zelda ran her fingers through that perfectly styled hair, pulling and raking her nails along until she heard Mary gasp. And she wanted Mary down, wanted her on her back, but the woman was immovable as stone, her grasp around Zelda’s waist like a chain keeping her tethered there—and, Satan, the thought sent a thrill straight between her legs.

As if sensing Zelda’s growing need, Mary brought one of her hands down, slipping it under the hem of Zelda’s dress, under the silk of her slip, trailing her fingers up smooth, soft curves until she found the last layer of fabric that stood between her and where Zelda needed her. Her fingers ghosted along the edge, every so often dipping beneath it to feel Zelda shudder under her touch. As she drew her hand between Zelda’s thighs, finding a damp patch with her fingertips, she let out a low hum. “I told you I knew what you wanted,” she murmured, flicking her fingers along the fabric.

“And yet,” Zelda managed, her voice tight as she tried to keep herself from panting, “all you seem capable of doing is teasing.”

Zelda choked on her next word as Mary’s hand slipped under the fabric, easily sliding between her folds. She dragged two fingers, slick with Zelda’s arousal, up and around her clit, biting on her own lip as Zelda’s back arched into the touch.

Deciding that the time for teasing had passed, that now she wanted nothing more than to have Zelda writhing in her lap and begging her for more, Mary slipped one, then two long fingers inside the woman, steadily building to an almost brutal pace that had Zelda crying out for Mary, for the Dark Lord, for anyone who would listen.

And, Satan, she was close, so very close. She could feel tension coiling low inside of her, threatening, promising to erupt at any second. Clenching around Mary’s fingers, Zelda’s own nails dug deep into Mary’s shoulders as her breathing grew more and more ragged, hips stuttering against her hand.

And then she was back in her chair, her dress smoothed down and her hair fixed, but her heart still racing, her breath still coming in short gasps, her cunt still clenching but now around nothing, the fingers that had once filled her suddenly gone. “What in Satan’s name do you—”

Zelda’s angry tirade was cut off by a single finger—no longer glistening with her own arousal—held in the air. “One. Two. And three.”

“Zelda? Are you home?”

Zelda closed her eyes and ground her teeth. Of course Hilda would go and ruin this for her too. “In the parlor,” she managed through gritted teeth.

“Oh!” Hilda popped her head around the corner, smiling cheerily at Mary. “You didn’t tell me we were expecting company.”

“We weren’t expecting anyone, and even if we were, I have never owed you information about the comings and goings of those individuals who pass through this house.”

A crease furrowed Hilda’s brow. It wasn’t as if she was unused to Zelda’s moods, but this seemed particularly harsh before she’d even taken off her coat.

“Mary Wardwell.” She stood up and extended her hand. “I’m one of Sabrina’s teachers.”

“At…?”

“Baxter High,” Mary finished, “but I know about the Academy.”

Hilda’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you know—”

“No, you halfwit, I’ve been sitting here with this woman for over an hour and never thought to ask her what business she has with my niece.” Seeing Hilda’s look of confusion, Zelda glared. “Of course I am aware,” she snapped. “Now I’m sure she’ll tell you the whole story, and I have no need of hearing it twice.” With that, Zelda stormed off, ignoring the apologies she could hear Hilda spouting off for her behavior, as if the two of them weren’t at the very root of it.

Standing in the kitchen, Zelda took a few deep, steadying breaths before placing a cigarette in her holder, lighting it, and taking a long drag. Eventually her heart rate slowed, the currents of heady desire not quite dissipating but receding enough for her to focus once more. She made her way through a second cigarette before returning to the parlor, finding Mary chatting with her sister as if she hadn’t just had Zelda halfway gone and riding her fingers.

“Sabrina should be home any minute now,” Zelda announced, pleased to find that she sounded wholly disinterested in their conversation and unaffected by their earlier activities.

“Ah yes, a united front!”

Zelda rolled her eyes at Hilda’s eagerness, taking her time in getting herself another cigarette before perching on the other side of Mary and draping her arm along the couch behind her. She took a gleeful pleasure in Mary’s confusion upon leaning back, watching as she straightened, her brow creasing slightly.

As the front door creaked open then slammed shut—and really? Must the girl disrespect the house as well?—Zelda murmured, “Show time.”

Sabrina was already chattering to no one about something she’d surely deemed a significant issue when she turned into the parlor, freezing at the sight of her two aunts seated around her teacher.

“How was the Academy, love?” Hilda asked, prattling on as if nothing were amiss.

Sabrina glared at Mary. “What are you doing here?”

“Sabrina, please don’t be cross with me.” Zelda fought to keep her expression steady as Mary debased herself and literally apologized to her niece. Long gone was the imposing woman she’d glimpsed that afternoon. “After our encounter in the mines, and having recognized the demon Apophis on that stone, I became concerned that you were putting yourself in danger.”

“Do my aunties know what you are?”

“I’ve told them everything.”

“And?” Sabrina glanced between Zelda and Hilda, a look of betrayal flashing across her features when no outrage was forthcoming.

“I wish I could say we were surprised,” Zelda said, “but this is just like Edward, isn’t it, Hilda?”

Hilda merely hummed. Of course Zelda shouldn’t have expected much support from her.

“It’s insulting, of course, that he didn’t think we’d be up to the task of protecting you ourselves.”

“Well…” Mary’s voice wasn’t particularly threatening, but that single, drawn out syllable held more malice than most things she could have said. Anger surged, hot and heady, through Zelda’s body. “Maybe you aren’t.”

“I beg your pardon?” It was one thing to make subtle insinuations about her parenting in private where Zelda could simply hex the woman without complications, but to do so in front of her sister? In front of Sabrina? Oh. That would not do.

“Sabrina has been finding herself in increasingly difficult predicaments since fleeing her Dark Baptism.” A rush of shame washed over Zelda at the reminder of her failure to get Sabrina to sign her name in the Book of the Beast as Edward had wanted.

“That is a good point.”

“Quiet, Hilda!” Zelda snapped, anger racing through her veins, leaving curses tingling at the tip of her tongue.

“Aunties, Ms. Wardwell. Jesse Putnam is going to die if we don’t do anything. And my friends will be next.” Oh and there it was again. That self-righteous insistence that meddling in mortal affairs was the most important thing she could do, rules and traditions be damned. “And if I can’t get help from the Church of Night”—Sabrina swallowed harshly, one of her hands curling into a fist as if to steady her resolve—“I’ll get it from the Catholic Church down the road.”

The three women all started. “Have you lost your mind? Turning to the False Church for help?” Fear and doubt swirled through Zelda’s thoughts. How had she failed this child so deeply that she would turn to the _Catholic_ Church for help? “Has your Aunt Hilda’s excommunication taught you nothing?”

“I don’t see what choice I have.” Zelda made a mental note to look into spells to fix cracked teeth as she ground hers together. “Father Blackwood said that there is no exorcism rite for witches to perform.”

“Actually…” Zelda’s gaze flashed over to Mary. What in Satan’s name did she think she was doing? “It so happens Edward wrote a rite expressly for that purpose.”

“And how, Ms. Wardwell, is that information at all helpful?”

“Always thinking outside the box, Edward,” Hilda mused, earning a sharp glare from Zelda that she ignored.

“It so happens I have a copy of the rite with me.” And then she was pulling some old scrap of paper out of her purse. “If Sabrina insists on following this madness through, she should be armed with the proper tools at least.”

Surely this was another dream. Perhaps that sleep demon had gotten loose again. Or sent its hellspawn after them. “I’m sorry. Are you actually suggesting that my niece perform an exorcism?”

Then Sabrina was spouting some nonsense about her mortal friends and acting fast because apparently she had learned nothing from every other time she’d acted hastily and nearly ruined everything they held dear.

Mary shrugged. “She’s determined to, it seems.” Her gaze flashed over to Zelda, ignoring the rage that was visibly simmering just beneath the surface.

“You claim that your entire raison d’être is to protect Sabrina.”

“Well, it is,” Mary cut in. “And I shall be with her, of course. And at the first sign of danger, I’ll spirit her away.”

It was ludicrous. Absolutely insane. The False Church could hardly have come up with anything quite so idiotic. “No. I won’t allow it. I forbid it.”

“Aunt Zelda, I’m not asking you for permission. I’m doing it. And if Ms. Wardwell wants to chaperone me, fine. But I won’t be leaving that room until Jesse Putnam is free.”

Before Zelda could snap at her niece and remind her exactly who she was and how old she was and under whose roof and authority she still existed—by the grace of Satan alone, if the events of the past few months meant anything—Mary was talking as if she had any right to do so once more. “It’s a good thing Edward had me looking after you. Your aunts, it appears, would have you perform the exorcism alone.”

“No, not me.” Hilda chuckled, looking over at Mary as if she could give her the approval that Zelda knew she’d always craved. “I’ll go as well.”

“Hilda! Need I remind you that the Church of Night expressly forbids performing exorcisms?”

“Yes, but I’m excommunicated, aren’t I?” Hilda pointed out, finally getting to throw the same insult Zelda had been using for weeks back in her face. “So, really, what have I got to lose?”

It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and really, she needed to go find out if Batibat had gotten loose once more. “Has the entire world gone mad? None of you are ordained,” she threw out as a kind of last resort.

But of course Mary had a response. “Unlike the Catholic exorcism, which draws its potency not on the priest performing it, but from the False God, Edward’s rite relies on the power of the individual witch challenging the demon, and on the continuum of witches that predates us all.”

There was something there that Zelda wanted to push against, but there was far too much going on in that moment, too many things and inane plans tumbling forward and gathering momentum like some out of control freight train that would surely ruin the Spellman name and Edward’s legacy. “Sabrina,” Zelda gasped, turning to her niece. “You can’t possibly trust this stranger, can you?”

“I don’t see what other choice I have, Aunt Zee.” And then they were leaving in a flutter of movement, and Zelda was left along with nothing but a cigarette disappearing into crumbling embers.

It only took a few minutes and a comment from Ambrose to send Zelda off to the Putnam residence. After all, if this exorcism depended on the strength of the witches performing it, well…she should be there to ensure its success, no matter how idiotic she found the idea. And, based on the scene that she found, she arrived not a moment too soon. She watched, her heart breaking slightly, as Sabrina shook her head, forces whirling about her, a demon outstretched in front of her. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes, you are,” Zelda insisted, striding into the room. “I call upon Cybil Leek. I call upon Priscilla Spellman. I call upon Francis Spellman. I call upon Evanora and Locasta Spellman.” She found Sabrina looking at her with an expression of pure wonder. “Continue, Sabrina.”

After a few intense moments, the mortal surged forward and retched up Apophis, which Mary Wardwell picked up in a blanket like it was some foul bug she’d found in her home, carrying it outside and dumping it into the well before instructing Sabrina to throw in the two halves of the stone seal she’d found in the mines.

Zelda thought, with all the excitement, she might be able to slip away unnoticed, but then Sabrina was smiling up at her and asking, “What made you change your mind?”

“The first witch exorcism ever performed,” she said with a slight shrug, “that seemed like something I should witness first-hand. If only for educational purposes.” She ignored Mary’s knowing look. “But don’t get too big for your britches, Sabrina. You’re grounded.”

“Grounded?”

A smile curled up the corners of her mouth. “A mortal punishment for interfering with mortal affairs.”

Before Sabrina could protest, Hilda cut in, “Don’t know about you three, but I could do with a nice, hot cup of tea.”

And for once, Zelda found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with her sister. “Oh, yes. Let’s go home.”

“Ms. Wardwell?” Of course Sabrina had to ruin the moment. “Will you join us?”

“Oh, no, no. I’ve intruded enough for one day. I should go.”

“I think that’s best, yes.” Zelda ignored the glare she received from Sabrina and the almost amused look she got from Mary.

Not that anything could ever be so simple as returning home to enjoy hot tea and a cigarette after a long evening and a trying day. No, she had to take care of the family once more, carefully managing Father Blackwood’s emotions until he guaranteed that there would be no excommunications that evening and then watching as Sabrina’s face fell upon hearing of Jesse Putnam’s untimely passing, his body unable to deal with the strain of possession even if they’d ensured his peace for his final moments.

Once the rest of the family filed off for bed, though, Zelda found herself restless, her emotions still unsettled from the events of the past 24 hours. She decided a walk would do her some good, and it wasn’t until she was halfway into the woods that she realized what she needed to do. With a quick guiding spell, she righted her course, soon arriving at Mary’s front door only a moment or two before the witch herself returned.

“Where were you?” Zelda asked. “Intruding in another student’s family affairs?”

“And here I thought you might be pleased. Sabrina was able to deal with her mortal friends without putting herself in grave danger with no one there to protect her.”

“You think I would be pleased that you gave her the very dangerous thing that put her life at risk in the first place? You think I would be pleased that you told my niece who I have raised for over a decade that I have been a poor guardian, have been anything less than what Edward had hoped I would be?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“No, but I think you did,” Zelda growled, advancing on the other witch. “I think you have little to no regard for me and my authority. Isn’t that why you thought you could simply enter into my home the first time? Why you thought you could waltz through our demonic nightmares? Why you thought you could know the first thing about me and what I want?”

“Zelda, I—”

“You’re done talking. Now you’re going to listen. Because I know that you are not who you say you are.” Zelda took a minute amount of satisfaction in the way Mary’s expression faltered for a millisecond. “I know there is power in you that you weren’t using tonight. I know that you have designs and plans that go far beyond simply watching over Sabrina. And”—Zelda paused, stepping forward into Mary’s space—“if I find out that those plans expose the girl to the slightest—and I do mean the _slightest_ —amount of harm, I will come for you, and with the power of the Dark Lord himself behind me, I will destroy you.”

By the time she had finished speaking, Mary’s eyes were dark, her chest heaving as she stared up at Zelda. “And this…this theory of yours—does it change things?”

Before Zelda could ask what kinds of things Mary meant, a single finger was trailing down her chest.

In an instant, the two women crashed into the house, toppling over the antique table in the entryway before shutting and locking the door with a quick spell. Zelda gasped as a rush of cool air met her suddenly exposed back once Mary managed to find the zipper to her dress. A moment later, she found herself pushed up against the wall, barely sparing a glance at the framed photograph that fell and shattered against the floor. Then Mary was tugging Zelda’s dress down her arms, letting it fall to her waist, followed shortly by her slip and bra. With a muttered phrase, Zelda’s jewelry appeared on a side table, leaving her bare from the waist up. Not that Mary let her stay that way for long. No, her nails were soon raking down Zelda’s back, leaving stinging red lines in their wake, while she pressed hot kisses across her chest, alternating between sharp bites and soothing caresses with her tongue that had Zelda’s breath coming in harsh gasps.

As Mary shimmied the fabric of Zelda’s dress and slip over her hips, her fingers curling into the waistband of her underwear and pushing them own, Zelda pressed a hand against her chest and shook her head.

“No?” Mary arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, one finger trailing teasingly down between Zelda’s legs, pulling a small gasp from the woman.

But Zelda wouldn’t be distracted, wouldn’t be the first one to crack. Instead, stepping out of her shoes and the pool of clothing that had gathered at her feet, Zelda pushed Mary backwards until her legs hit the couch.

“Down,” Zelda ordered.

She watched as Mary opened her mouth, then, with a small smirk, sank down onto the cushion. “Is this what you need, Zelda? Do you need me beneath you? Do you need to try to prove to yourself that—”

“Oh shut up,” Zelda growled, silencing Mary with a deep kiss as she rucked up the skirt of her dress.

“Just, first…” rather than finish her sentence, Mary pushed Zelda back up, lowering her dress’ zipper with a quick spell, though she stopped short of simply sending it up to her closet. “I figured you’d want the honor of taking it off yourself.”

Zelda rolled her eyes, but it didn’t stop her from pulling off Mary’s dress, her eyes greedily taking in the sight of smooth skin and perfect curves and black lace lingerie. She palmed roughly at Mary’s chest, relishing in every gasp and whimper and moan that suggested the woman was no longer quite so in control of herself as she had been earlier.

Positioning herself above Mary, Zelda moved her thigh between Mary’s legs, smirking at the wetness already seeping through the lace. As she bent forward to unhook Mary’s bra, Zelda felt the way Mary’s hips bucked up into her, chasing after her thigh when she shifted it backwards ever so slightly. And there—there it was, everything she’d wanted. The woman who thought everything was hers chasing after the one thing that wasn’t hers to take—not unless Zelda was generous enough to give it to her.

“Patience,” Zelda purred, her breath hot against Mary’s ear. She nipped her way down the column of Mary’s neck, sucking one dark bruise into the juncture between Mary’s shoulder and her neck, a reminder of just who had been there.

As Zelda’s mouth closed around one of Mary’s nipples, teasing and sucking at the stiff peak, Mary’s hands flew up, clawing at Zelda’s hips in a desperate attempt to get her to lower herself once more, give her the friction she wanted, needed. Zelda’s back arched as the burn of Mary’s nails sent a jolt of heat through her, but she held herself up, sucking and nipping across Mary’s chest until the woman looked utterly wrecked, her earlier composure long since vanished. Then her nails were dragging up the inside of Mary’s thighs, teasing her through the lace until she finally hooked her fingers beneath the waistband and drew the final layer keeping them apart away, licking her lips at the shimmer of arousal glistening against the dark lace.

Zelda trailed one finger slowly up through Mary’s folds, her breath catching at the full-body shiver that ran through the woman at the movement. And then her own restraint seemed to falter, finally breaking when Mary managed a breathy, “Zelda.” That was all it took for Zelda to push two fingers deep inside of Mary, groaning at the way she took them so easily, the way her walls clenched around them, pulling her in deeper and deeper.

“Fuck,” Zelda panted as she built to a faster and faster rhythm, ignoring the way the muscles in her arm started to burn with the force of exertion. She hooked her fingers forward, watching with parted lips and lust-blown eyes as Mary’s thighs clenched, her back arching off the sofa, her hips frantically moving, taking more and more of anything Zelda would give her. And then the woman was coming with a sharp cry, her hands clutching Zelda’s shoulders until she collapsed back against the couch, her eyes closed and her breath still coming in shallow pants.

In the quiet that followed, Zelda traced one of her fingers along Mary’s sharp cheekbones, shaking off the moment of tenderness as soon as Mary’s eyes blinked open once more.

Before Zelda could swing her leg back over Mary’s hips and attempt to leave, Mary’s hands were firm on her waist, a devilish smirk pulling up the corner of her mouth. “Not so fast, my dear. We have unfinished business to deal with yet.”

And Zelda wanted to pretend like she could walk away wholly unaffected, but her body betrayed her, arching into Mary’s fleeting touches like a moth drawn to its fiery death. “Mary.” It was breathy and soft and everything Zelda Spellman prided herself on _not_ being. But it also got her Mary’s fingers, which Zelda sank down onto with a kind of needy abandon, promising herself that the moment it was over, she would focus once more on how much she disliked Mary Wardwell, how little she trusted her, all the myriad reasons she had for wanting her to stay far away from her family. But for that moment…well in that moment Zelda had needs that were being very, very well satisfied by the woman beneath her.

As if reading Zelda’s thoughts, Mary increased her pace, driving into Zelda and flicking her thumb across her clit, sending sharp sparks of pleasure shooting through her. Then suddenly Mary’s arm was around her back and Mary was pushing up and forward, easily reversing their positions in a show of strength Zelda hadn’t expected that left her wetter and needier than before.

Mary’s free hand slipped from around the back of Zelda’s neck, her fingers moving to roam across Zelda’s chest, twisting her nipples just hard enough to have Zelda’s hips bucking beneath her. Then, _oh_ , praise Satan, Mary was shifting back slightly and dipping her head down, her tongue darting out to wet those blood red lips before she took Zelda’s clit between them, tracing teasing patterns with her tongue before grazing lightly over it with her teeth, causing Zelda to cry out in pleasure, her hands fisting in the luxurious waves of Mary’s hair.

As Zelda clenched around Mary’s fingers, her hips canting up into Mary’s mouth, Mary pulled back slightly, ordering: “Come for me, Zelda. Let go.”

For that, Zelda held on just a little longer, ignoring the way her thigh muscles trembled and shook, the way her hips moved without her permission, the way her fingers curled tighter and tighter in Mary’s hair. But then Mary was hooking her fingers forward and swirling her tongue just right and groping blindly at Zelda’s chest with her free hand, and it was all too much to hold back any longer.

Zelda’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream as she gave herself over to the pleasures of the flesh, let her body chase what it needed from Mary’s fingers, her tongue, her lips until it couldn’t take another moment, collapsing back into the couch cushions.

It took Zelda longer than she’d care to admit to get herself back up, aftershocks still wracking through her frame, and the swell of Mary’s chest pressed against her bare skin making the idea of leaving less enticing than it once had been. Eventually, though, she managed to pull herself up into a seated position, her stomach clenching at the catlike movements of Mary stretching up and off of Zelda and draping herself back down on the couch beside her.

“That,” Mary purred, a finger trailing down Zelda’s arm, “was exquisite.”

“Yes, well…” Zelda forced herself to swallow, looking away from that disarming gaze that made her want to stay, to drag Mary up the stairs and throw her down on the first bed she could find and learn exactly what Mary tasted like as she came undone beneath her lips. “I should be getting home.”

“Mm yes, someone really should be looking after Sabrina. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to her when no one was watching, now would we?”

Zelda glared at Mary. “I swear to Satan if you—”

“I don’t know how many times I need to keep telling you that we want the same things for Sabrina.”

“And yet, no matter how many times you insist, I highly doubt it.”

“You’ll see, Zelda. And once you have, perhaps I’ll still be here… There are so very many ways we might have honored the Dark Lord together, so very many ways we could thank him for all the exquisite ecstasies our freedom makes possible.” She raked her nails down Zelda’s back, her hand finally coming to rest at Zelda’s hips as she leaned behind Zelda, pressing heated kisses down the side of her neck. “Perhaps you’ll dream of them,” she mused.

Zelda forced herself to stand, pulling her body away from Mary’s tempting touches.

“Maybe I’ll even come to you in your sleep once more.”

Zelda’s expression hardened with anger as she spun around.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, Zelda. This time I won’t abandon you in your moment of need.” She flashed Zelda a wicked smile. “Don’t you worry…I’ll be seeing you soon enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm occasionally on Tumblr @sapphicscholarwrites and Twitter @sapphicscholar


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